


Group chats are the worse enemy known to mankind

by emimix3



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Cell Phones, Chirping, Closeted Character, Group chat, Humor, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Outing, SMH Team - Freeform, Secret Relationship, Social Media, Texting, set during year 3, sexy pictures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 10:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emimix3/pseuds/emimix3
Summary: When you're in a long-distance relationship, you do what you can to satisfy your libido; good thing that technology is on your side.Sadly, when your partner is as tech savvy as your grandpa, and has no idea of how to share a picture, you often have to fix his mistakes before, for instance, all of your friends see his dick in 4k on their cellphones.





	Group chats are the worse enemy known to mankind

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone !
> 
> This fic is set during the year 3, before Jack and Bitty are out to anyone. Couldn't get this idea out of my head, so here you are. I hope you enjoy !
> 
> As for the formating; thanks CodenameCarott for their work "All the Emoji" (/works/6580324), and I decided not to use the iOS/Android formatting for the text messages.

One thing about long-distance relationships is that, well, you can’t see your sweetheart. That’s the whole thing about them, actually: you can’t see them, you can’t touch them, you can’t be with them. Fortunately, it was easier in the sweet year of the Lord 2-oh-15: technology couldn’t let you be together with your other half at the other side of the globe, but it was as if. Calls, video chats, nice texts, naughty pictures.

So easy to communicate, you just need your phone.

And a boyfriend who’s not a freaking idiot who mistakenly just send a selfie with his stupid smiling face and his goddamn dick out to the group chat.

 

 

**Bits ❦, Jack ❣**

>> Jack what did you just do???????

> PUTAIN  
> Im so sorry  
> I thought it was the private messaging windo 

>> Well it was NOT

> Im mortified. Have they seen it. I don’t want to open the chat to see if they saw it.

>> It’s Saturday morning no one has seen it yet  
>> Yet (Disappointed But Relieved Face )(Disappointed But Relieved Face )

> Bits it’s one PM.

>> Morning (Face Without Mouth )

> I just deleted it it should be ok no ?

>> Jack. That”’s not how it work

> ?

>> What’s on the group chat stays on the group chat  
>> You just deleted it on your phone. You need to physically deleted the picture on theirs too. So yeah everyone will see your dick first thing when waking up

> Bitty I can’t. I’m going to combust of shame right now. I can’t leave this hotel room, ever.

>> I know, honey…

> Bitty we’re not even out.  
> I captioned it “Like what you see, Bits ?”  
> Everyone will know.  
> They’re my friends but im not ready. I mean I do want to tell them, sooner than later. But not now. Not like that.

>> I know, sweetpea.  
>> I think I’m…. Going to corner them and explain calmly the situation to them before they see it, okay? Try to salvage something  
>> Ask them to not message you about it before the game  
>> And ask them not to after too, but honestly nothing I can say would stop them (Disappointed Face )

> That’s probably the only thing to do.

>> Focus on practice and on the game tonight, I’m taking care of the bad things right now  
>> Also I’m banning any naughty picture from you until the end of time (Flushed Face )(Face With Look Of Triumph )

 

When stressed, Bitty baked. And Bitty was a bit stressed now. He had to tell his teammates that he was going out -for months, now- with their best friend-slash-NHL player, and to please not chirp him too much about the picture an the terrible caption they probably had seen on the group chat, and yes by the way Jack is bi (… Bi the way) and not out so not a word, and please accept this modest offering of chocolate pie so you will shut the fuck up and never talk about it ever again, in the history of ever?

So that’s why he as in the kitchen, kneading enough dough for at least half a dozen pies. He didn’t plan to cook half a dozen pies, but kneading dough always helped him to think and calm down.

 _At least_ , Jack didn’t leak the picture on the big chat with all the team, only the one with Ransom, Holster, Lardo and Shitty. Otherwise, one of the frogs would already be at the door, phone in hand, like “What the fuck dude.”. At least, none of the frogs would dare chirp Jack about the picture. They’re still way too impressed. Lardo, Shitty, Ransom and Holster though? No promise they’d make about forgetting it would be held. Actually, none would even be taken. There was no way they’d pass this golden laughing material.

And could Bitty really judge? If it wasn’t about him, he would probably laugh too. A little bit. Man, he was such a terrible human being. A monster amongst men. How could people even talk to-

 

“Hiiii Bits…”

 

Bitty started. He was so lost in thoughts that he didn’t hear Holster entering the room, clad in his pyjamas -namely, old underwear and a ratty band shirt-, still three-quarters asleep.

He was not ready. He couldn’t do that. Honestly, if it was a naked picture of _himself_ that got leaked to people he wasn’t out to, he’d be half less stressed. Probably because he’d have died of an heart attack the second it was sent, but still.

 

“Hiiii Holster” he replied through gritted teeth. “Sooo, er, what’s up?”

“How would I know, it’s morning.”

“Yeah… How would you know. It’s past one PM though.”

 

Holster went past him, straight to the coffee maker, and put his phone down the counter in the process.

He hadn’t seen anything yet. He usually waited to get his coffee before scrolling his phone. Bitty had still a few seconds of peace of mind, but honestly? He didn’t want to be right across Holster when he _saw._

 

“Want some?” Holster asked, getting two hot pink mugs -the ones everyone always fight for.

“No thank you,” Bitty, who couldn’t eat one goddamn thing right now, replied.

 

Holster shrugged and tried to turn on the coffee maker. It was a Nespresso thing, easy to use, but many years of students trying to express their coffee with Red Bull or curaçao made it quite stubborn.

 

“I just want you to work, you piece of junk…”

 

Bitty looked at him manhandling the machine. Then at the mugs by the sink.

Then, at the phone, forgotten on the counter.

Genius.

 

“Actually, Holster, do you think we have what we need to make me a pumpkin spice caramel mocaccino?”

“Gosh who do you think I am? Starbucks?” he muttered under his breath, as he finally understood the machine only needed water.

“Do we?”

“Well if you don’t mind milk foamed with the wand thingy and not steam, I can try something.”

“You’re an angel, honey.”

“First, I need to make this shit work.”

 

While he was finally making the coffee and looking at it pour, Bitty discreetly grabbed with his little gay hands the phone on the counter.

He tried to act nonchalant, as if it as is own phone, and pressed the lock button. A schema. Shit, what was Holster’s? It was the triangle, wasn’t it? The V? The… squarey… thing? Shit. He locked it for thrity seconds. And the coffee was almost ready, damn capsule-coffee makers, and Holster was putting milk in a glass to foam it.

Quick, Bitty. Holster had big, often greasy fingers. If he just… tilted at the right angle…

Bingo. He could guess the swipe trace on the screen.

By the time the phone was unlocked, the milk was foamed. Holster was looking for pumpkin spice on the spice rack next to Bitty. He didn’t seem to notice his teammate had his phone in hand, though.

 

“Where is the caramel sauce?”

“Under the cutlery, I think.” -It was at the top of the fridge.

 

The phone was still in airplane mode. Bitty put it on silent before turning the mode off, and suddenly Holster’s phone was DROWNED in notifications.

Visibly he was flirting with a certain Kate and he had a tumblr named office-fetish-kinks, but that wasn’t the point. The point was… where the hell was this group chat.

HERE.

Bitty clicked on it and Jack’s dick, in all its glory, welcomed him.

 _Jack, sweetpea, bless your heart_ , Bitty told himself as he deleted the picture. At least, according the read receipts, only Bitty and Jack had seen it. And POUF! Now, Holster wouldn’t see it either. Well, at least, until Ransom showed it to him.

Bitty had barely put the phone back in airplane mode on the counter that he was given a mug of steamy hot coffee.

 

“Here, your horror.”

“Thank you, Holster.”

“Also, you didn’t answer my question. Do you have anyone in mind for Winter Screw? Or should we surprise you?”

 

Bitty didn’t want to think about Winter Screw. He didn’t want to go, and to have a date with someone who wasn’t the guy he was dating. Plus, the music was terrible and the alcohol had to be smuggled in. And his dates until then had been really bad; contrary to what Ransom and Holster said, they weren’t good at picking out dates for other people. They weren’t even good to pick up dates for themselves, so why did anyone let them set them up with strangers.

 

“Don’t ask me such questions so early in the morning.”

“It’s past one PM, though,” Holster said, smiling in his -plain, with a bit of leftover foamed milk and yes okay some caramel and spice because they were out- coffee and texting.

 

Bitty bit his lip, looking at him go through his notifications, but nothing out of the ordinary (such as, Jack Zimmermann’s dick.) seemed to have popped on the screen. _Good._

 

“I… I don’t know Hol. I’ll tell you after I think a bit about it, okay? And, uh… was Ransom already up?”

“Yes, no. He fell asleep at seven.”

“Studying?”

“World of Warcraft.”

 

Okay, time to use your superior lying skills acquired by twenty years of being gay in Georgia.

 

“Okay. Because I wanted to use our bathroom for a long, long bath.”

“Yeah go ahead, I’m just going to change in it before, I’m heading to the swimming pool in five,” Holster said, locking his phone. “Tell Chowder if you see him, I think he wanted to go today.”

“Sure,” Bitty said, rushing his absolutely-not-finished dough in the fridge as soon as Holster left the kitchen. If asked, he’d just said it needs to rise (it doesn’t). No one would ask, though. No one knew shit about dough. He also discreetly poured his gross-as-hell coffee in the sink.

On his way upstairs, his phone began to buzz.

 

 

**Bits ❦, Jack ❣**

> Bitty. Bitty Holster saw.  
> There is the little picture that says he saw.

>> No. I made sure that Holster will never see it.

> … Bitty what have you done.  
> I mean I really didn’t want him to see it. But what have you done.

>> Nothing! I… Took his phone while he was looking away and deleted the picture.

 

Bitty sat on the stairs to the attic, needing to finish this conversation and make sure Holster was out of the bathroom -and out of the Haus- before he could carry on his plan.

 

> You did that.

>> That I did.  
>> I mean, I can”’t totally save our asses on this one – but I can make sure at least ransom and holster don’t see the picture. Or at least try  
>> But shitty is at Harvard, so I can’t do much about it. But I think it would be less overwhelming if only him and and maybe Lardo know, no?  
 >> They wouldn’t chirp us as much and wouldn’t keep the picture for embarrassing powerpoints. I think.(Thinking Face )

> Tell that to my brain.  
> I’m so out of my game right now and it’s only gym work out this afternoon. I will never be able to play correctly tonight.

>> Courage, sweetheart. I’m trying to fix this up as much as I can.(Two Hearts )

 

Holster went out of the bathroom, nodding to Bitty to tell him it was free before he went downstairs. Bitty waited to hear the entrance door open, then close, and now he was alone. Let’s go, baby.

The good thing about Ransom, was that when he slept, he _slept._ At least, he was harder to wake than Holster. So, navigating through the dim attic to his bed was easy. And now, where was his phone-oh, right there. Charging, next to his pillow. Against the wall. Bitty did his best to get it without touching Ransom, unplugged it, and…

Shit. A fingerprint lock.

Ransom’s arm was hanging from the bed. Easy. Bitty just had to press his index, and…

It was not working. Maybe another angle? His thumb? … Middle finger?

Or, uh. Maybe his other hand. Currently on his cheek.

Shiiit.

Slowly, Bitty took Ransom’s hand off his cheek, just a few inches, as if he was trying to peel a leech off. He quickly put the phone on the index -successfully unlocking it-, but Ransom’s frown deepened. And he groaned.

Surprised, Bitty let the hand go, and it slapped straight Ransom in the face.

The poor excuse of a secret agent just had the time to hide under the bed before Ransom opened his eyes, confused.

Bitty didn’t move, nor breathed. He heard Ransom groan some more, turn around, and after a few seconds he was still once again. Bitty deleted the picture, keeping himself to sigh. Neither Lardo nor Shitty had seen it yet.

He waited for another minute or two before getting out, let the phone on the floor by the bed as he didn’t want to risk to put it back in place, and quickly left the attic.

 

 

**Bits ❦, Jack ❣**

>> Ransom won’t be a problem anymore.

> It really sounds like you ended them.  
> Thank you so much.

>> I don’t think I can do more.

> It’s already a lot. I’m so sorry. And… Sorry that I sounded so whiny before.

>> Don’t worry, I understand. I’d react so much worse if that’s how I’d risk coming out as queer to anyone.

> Love you.(Two Hearts )

>> Love you too(Two Hearts )

 

“Hey, Bits.”

 

Scared to the bone, the poor Bitty jumped and almost dropped his phone. Chowder, who was leaving his bedroom, frowned at him, a bit confused.

 

“Oh. Hey Chowder.”

“Sorry for startling you -but why are you in the hallway?”

 

Bitty was once again sitting on the attic’s staircase to text. Not the first place anyone would use to hang out indeed, but please Chowder, don’t play Sherlock Holmes right now.

 

“Oh. I wanted to talk to Ransom, but he’s sleeping. Too bad.”

“He’s the last one sleeping, for once.”

 

Bitty shrugged, and looked away. He had more pressing issues than who was usually sleeping in, to be honest… Like, zoning out and thinking about how your life was about to crash and burn. Zoning out, his eyes watching the hallway… watching Lardo’s closed door. Suddenly… Suddenly he felt like his luck was to be pushed.

 

“Chow-Chow, do you know where Lardo is, by the way?”

“She woke me up at like, seven using the bathroom. She must be at her art studio to work.”

 

At the art studio. Yes. When she was working, she was in another world. She forgot to eat, to go to the toilet, to wash, to communicate with anyone. Anything could happen, and she wouldn’t notice. So. If he was quick…

 

“Do you want me to text her to ask where she is?” Chowder proposed, his phone in hand.

 

Bitty almost said yes when he saw his life flashing before his eyes. The universal signal that what your about to do is a bad idea.

Lardo had probably missed the group chat’s notification, but every new notification she had? It would make her phone ring, buzz, or light up. As focused on her paintings she could be, every notification risked making her look at her phone.

 

“No no don’t worry! Don’t bother her! I’m just… Going to see if she’s there on my way to Murder Stop & Shop.”

“It’s not on the way to Murder Stop & Shop.”

“Bye Chowder! Holster’s at the pool!”

 

Bitty all but ran down the stairs. It was a race against time. He had to get to Lardo before someone sent her a sweet dank meme that would make her look at her phone. Contrary to the guys, she hadn’t see Jack’s dick and Bitty pretty much would like it to stay this way.

Running to the art building was actually a pretty terrible idea. Bitty was built for speed, not stamina, and this goddamn department was at the other side of the campus. When he arrived, he was panting, and nursing an awful stitch. He just needed. One minute to breath.

His phone buzzed.

On the full team’s chat, Wicks had sent an -admittedly, cute- picture of a cat dressed as a Transformer.

Bitty hated cats to begin with, and now? He _loathed_ this one.

Not loosing one more second, he rushed inside, his phone opened on the chat to check if Lardo had seen it. She hadn’t. But Chowder and Dex were replying, and every vibration of the phone made Bitty’s heart beat faster. He never climbed four stories of stairs this quickly. Really, Holster, did you need to send this gif of a laughing cat? No you didn’t. All of you, shut up. Before Lardo notice-

Bitty barged into Lardo’s studio, his buzzing phone in hand.

She yelped.

 

“Bitty?! Do you want me dead?”

“Sorry! I didn’t want to scare you!”

“Too bad, you did.”

 

And she moved aside a little bit, to show a fresh yellow streak on her canvas, and the brush with yellow pain in her hand.

Okay, he absolutely didn’t want that.

 

“Oh my God. I’m so, so, so sorry. “

 

She sighed, looking at the canvas with a closed off face.

 

“No, it’s… Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. It’s giving the whole thing… A Kim Beom vibe, you know?”

 

No he didn’t know. Except if Kim Beom was like, a guy who painted yellow while screaming.

 

“Lardo, it seems like an almost finished realistic piece. It _is_ horrible. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it, I can probably fix it, it’s not dry. I just hope you have a good excuse for that.”

 

Oh. He didn’t. He… Forgot that.

 

“I. Passed by and wanted to make sure you ate. I know how you can be when you work. Forget how to take care of yourself, haha…”

“Yeah don’t worry-“ she replied, trying to smear out the paint with a paper towel. “My studio mate got me a sandwich to thank me for all the pastries I bring.”

“You ate it?”

“No, I wait for noon.”

 

It was almost two PM.

 

“By the way, what time is it?” Lardo asked, looking around for her phone.

“Quarter to two! It is quarter to two!”

“Wait what? Already? I guess I’m going to take a break. Have you seen my phone?”

 

No, he hadn’t. he was trying to localise it since he entered the room.

Lardo began to put her brushes away. Quick, Bits, quick.

 

“I think the yellow paint will be totally under control. Can’t take it off, so I’ll structure the whole piece around it, you know? Say it was intentional. I hate realistic assignments anyway. It’s so boring.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

_There_. On her bag, by the door. On the floor. How could he duck to get it discreetly?

Lardo turned to look at him. Urgh.

 

“Uh… So, Lardo, what is this piece about?”

“Oh! It’s about bridges, metaphorical and physical.”

 

Yes he could see that, it was a goddamn 2x3 metres red bridge. Now Lardo, turn around and explain the tiny details, please.

 

“Oh… So, what about the character on it?”

“Which? There are twenty-four.”

“The… Blue one.”

“This one?” she had turned to point one, but she was back to Bitty before he could move.

“No… the… the other blue one.”

“Oh, him? Well, you see…”

 

Finally. She was focused on her painting. Bitty bent to get her phone, and she turned back to him before he could try to unlock it.

 

“And… His red friend?”

“Oh. They’re not friends. Just strangers, you see? They-“

 

Shit. Number password. Her birthday? Her niece’s birthday? … His birthday? _I’m sorry Lardo, what you say is probably very interesting, but I can’t listen to a single word._

 

“And anyway I’m just so hungry. Want me to tell you more about it around some Annie’s?”

 

Bitty looked up at her like a deer caught in headlights. She was looking expectantly at his face, not noticing the phone in his hands was hers, hopefully.

 

“Sorry. Gotta go to Murder Stop & Shop. Now. Bye.”

 

And he ran. Even quicker than on his way _to_ the art building.

If he had a stitch to get there, he now was on the verge of an infarctus in his kitchen.

He just stole a phone.

Let’s find the code now.

He sat at the table with two bottles of water and a plate of cookies, and went to work. After trying out all the birthdays of her friends and family -thanks Facebook- he gave up, and began to try out random numbers. He had time. Holster and Chowder were still out, and Ransom was reading in the living room.

Until that Bitty, too focused on Lardo’s phone, didn’t notice Ransom coming in and sitting across from him, his book on the table and a cookie in mouth.

He didn’t seem to realise the phone wasn’t Bitty’s.

 

“Tweeting?” Ransom asked.

“Ah- haha. Yes. As always.”

“I love days off.”

“Don’t we all?”

 

Putting the phone away now would only bring attention to it. He just had. To be nonchalant. 0298. Not that. 0299. Not that. Locked for 30 seconds.

 

“Well, the game was _brutal_ yesterday,” Ransom stated. “Good to take a breath. Hey, doesn’t Jack play tonight? We should catch his game.”

“Yeah. Against San Francisco.”

“Do you think he’ll bring me an ugly snow globe from there?”

“Ask him.”

“Can you shoot him a text? You’ve got your phone.”

“… Sure.”

 

Bitty pretended to type a text, before resuming his high-quality hacking.

 

“Let me know what he says. Man, I miss him. Must be weeks since I last saw his gorgeous bod’. I fear to forget what he looks like.”

 

Had you woken earlier, you’d have a magnificent picture of him engraved at the back of your retina until the end of your days, Ransom.

 

“Yeah, same.”

“We should ask him to come after his roadie, don’t you-“

“YES!”

 

'T was 0304. Fuck yes.

Bitty realised he screamed out loud, because Ransom stopped talking to frown at him.

 

“Oh uh… Jack will bring you your snow globe.”

“Is that… A reason to yell?”

“I- I convinced him to bring everyone in the team one snow globe. I’m just… Happy of my manipulation skills.”

“’Kay. Tell him I want the White House in mine.”

“He’s in San Francico,” Bitty said, with a smile all the way to his ears while deleting the picture of Lardo’s phone (and man, photos where really high-quality on hers… He should upgrade his.)

“Same difference for my Canadian ass,” Ransom said, getting up. “I’m going back to the living-room, bye.”

 

When he left, Bitty couldn’t help to be a little vexed. The empty plate here to prove it, Ransom didn’t come in the kitchen to hang out with him but only to eat the cookies. If Bitty hadn’t bitchslapped the guy with his own hand in his sleep not even an hour ago, he’d want to avenge his pride.

 

 

**Bits ❦, Jack ❣**

 

>> Lardo’s off the grid.

> Really, try to use formulations not implying you killed them.

>> I stole her phone in the process  
>> IDK how to return it to her (Thinking Face )

> What did you do ?

>> Went @her studio, took her phone, left.

> Put it in her room, she’ll maybe think she forgot it this morning.

>> Yes good  
>> You need to buy snow globes for everyone BTW (Two Hearts )

> I need to what

>> There’s only shitty left

> Wait I need to what  
> For Shitty we can’t do much, you’re in Samwell, he’s at Harvard, I’m in SF.  
> What you did is already incredible,

>> Yeah but…

> Considering how many pictures he sent us of his holidays in his naturist camping site, he really can’t chirp me for my photo

>> You seem calmer than before

> I am I guess. I had time to cool down and think it out  
> Plus there’s only Shitty left now. It’s okay.  
> Well not okay but okayer  
> I can survive Shitty  
> It’s not ideal. Like, a 3/10 on the scale of ideal. But I’ll live it through. I’ll just need to hide in a cave for like, six months, such as Richard and his sheep jacket when he refused to accept his son Fulgor

>> what

Bitty had no idea of when Lardo would be back. It was two thirty, so maybe in a few hours, but still. He had to hide the phone as soon as possible. While trying to lift Jack’s spirits up, he went upstairs to put the phone under Lardo’s pillow.

Except that, there was already something on Lardo’s pillow. Namely, Shitty’s sweaty face. Shitty who was reading a manga, sprawled in all his naked glory on the covers.

 

“Shitty?”

“Bitty?”

 

‘ _You’re not supposed to be here’_ was implied in both’ voices. And well, Bitty had the two phones in hand. And Shitty was looking at them. Urgh. Here goes the stealth.

 

“I… Found Lardo’s phone in the green couch. I just. Brought it there,” Bitty said, putting it on the desk next to him.

“And I. Took a break, arrived during the night. Didn’t want to wake you all, so I just. Went to see Lardo. She was awake.”

“Cool. Cool cool cool. I understand you wanted to hang out with her-“

 

_I myself often sneak Jack in my room for the night, I know the drill._

 

“Yeah. Yeah. Just. Hanging out. Chill.” Shitty slowly articulated.

“Chill.”

 

Considering the faint smell of marijuana despite the open window and the box of condoms on the floor, very chill.

 

“Did you plann to come downstairs at all?”

“I woke up like, ten minutes ago. Wanted to come down by lunch or something. But hey, if you ask, what time is-“

 

Shitty just had the time to take the phone on the nightstand in his hand that Bitty jumped him. And threw the phone though the window.

 

“I. uh. Time is a social construct and so are phones.”

“You’re not wrong,” Shitty said, looking -a bit scared- at Bitty.

 

There was a moment of silence.

 

“I’m going to get your phone back.”

“You do that.”

 

 

 

**Bits ❦, Jack ❣**

>> Just deleted the pic on Shitty”s phoen

> !!! How !  
> Tater chirps me because I’ve never been that much on my phone, ever  
> I was so stressed.  
> I love you.

>> He was naked in lardo’s bedroom. I refuse to belive any of her words now when she says they’re not together. There were condoms  
>> Anyway I took the phone and sent it fly though the window. Good thing it fell on the grass, it’s not broken and he has the same password as lardo.  
>> 0304 please quiz them I’m p sur they got together then  
>> Long story short story I deleted it easy

> You threw the phone out of the window  
> Bits I love you  
> I’m so relieved I could cry  
> You’re incredible thank you so much and I’m so sorry

>> Score a hatty for me tonight to thank me (Face Throwing A Kiss )(Top Hat )

> I feel so light I’m gonna score you two hatties  
> ‘How did you manage something so impressive Mr Zimmermann?’ ‘Oh you now, my boyfriend spent the afternoon stealing phones to delete a nude I mistakenly sent to the group chat, I wanted to thank him’

>> Don’t say that I refuse it to become a pre-game ritual  
>> speaking of rituals, how was the bread I made?-

 

 

 

With the time difference, Jack’s game was really late, but the Hausmates and Shitty still got together to watch it. All of them in various states of drunkenness. Bitty, whose stress level had been on a roller coaster all afternoon, was more than happy to partake in the drinking game.

One of the rule being that each goal was one shot, and each of Jack’s goal was two shots, and well, Jack just scored his _fourth_ goal. No need to say they were _wasted._

 

“Shit take a picture of us! For Jack!” Bitty said, giving him his phone already set on the camera.

 

Shitty was the most elegant drunk in the room (not meaning that he was elegant when drunk, but that he was more elegant drunk than sober), so of course he was the one framing the selfies. He managed to get one with him, the team, and Jack on the TV screen in the middle of his celly.

 

“You’re all beauts, beauts,” he said, looking at the picture (it wasn’t too blurred).

“He just said I’m beautiful”, Chowder chuckled.

“The beautifulerest,” Lardo confirmed.

“Bits, how does your fancy phone work? How do ya send this?” Shitty groaned. “Where’s the chat?”

 

Everyone but him was focused back on the screen, where Jack was dogpiled by all his teammates for his fourth beautiful, perfect goal (and it was only the second period!).

And then, one second before he heard Shitty open his mouth, Bitty realised.

That on his phone, he forgot to do something.

 

“… Bitty, what is this picture of Jack’s dick in the group chat?”


End file.
